


In The Know

by PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Engineer tries to cover, Heavy isn't very subtle, It's all fun on the base., M/M, Medic is accused of playing god, Multi, Spy just found out about Sniper & Scout, This is ridiculous but fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 07:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10962948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess/pseuds/PhoenixFire_theWizardGoddess
Summary: Spy has just found out which of the other mercenaries his son has been not-so-secretly dating, and he confronts Engineer about the man keeping it from him. Things tend to get a little out of hand.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Freshsalad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freshsalad/gifts).



> Based on a random headcanon @camiluna27/Freshsalad proposed like an hour ago. And I made this.

The first thing Engine knew of Spy finding out about Scout's not-so-little-secret, was the exact moment his laboratory door exploded inward with the force of a furious frenchman’s foot.

 

“YOU KNEW!” accused the masked man, blatantly seething.

Engie, trying to diffuse the situation, doesn’t rise to the bait. “Ah know many things, Spah, you mind tellin’ me which thing you’re on about?”

“Zhe filthy bushman 'as been defiling my SON! And I am zhe last on zhe base to know about zhis-… zhis-… _blatant manipulation of a minor?_!” Spy cries, furious, but perhaps not finding quite the right words in English.

Amused, but patient, Engie puts down his tools before responding. “Now, see here Spook the kid’s nearly _thirty_ he ain’t no minor-”

“ _Physically_ , per'aps, but–” interjects Spy, before Engie can talk over him again.

“…-and he’s a tad immature at times but it don’t mean he can’t make his own decisions. The kid knows what he’s on about, and ah’m getting the impression it’s more about the who, than the fact he’s in a relationship with another man…” responds the inventor, conventionally, and raising an eyebrow at the espionage agent.

 

“Well of course zhat does not matter, it would be ‘ypocritical to scorn such a union, but my point is zhat _of all zhe men 'ere_ … 'e chooses zhe one man who likes to fling _PISS_ at people for _fun_!” stresses the exasperated Spy, hands flailing as he tried to impress on the stocky Texan the gravity of the situation.

“Mmmm, ah know you two don’t see eye-to-eye but Sniper’s a good man and Scout couldn’t have done much better - _or worse, come to think of it_ \- outta the people here. Least it ain’t BLU’s Sniper…” he gets the dig in there, because who could resist.

 

The horrified expression on Spy’s face was worth it. “ _Mon dieu_ … per'aps we should thank god for small miracles zhen, I could not attend a wedding where zhey replace confetti with jarate…”

Engie snorts. “Now where'n the hell’d ya get that idea, Spook?”

“What? Oh… zhe Snipers use it for everything _else_ , even extinguishing fires! I would not be surprised if zhey use it for mouthwash at zhis point… everything is piss with those lanky bushmen. And to zhink my son 'as stooped low enough to 'ave some degree of affection for one of zhat Class…” the Frenchman sounded desolate, unusually bereft. As if this physically pained him.

 

Engie was sympathetic, but he also knew it wasn't about Spy, nor the man's place to try and drive a wedge between the two.

“Now look here, Spah… ah don’t want to step on your toes seein’ as you’re finally getting interested in Scout’s life again, which is great and all. But ya gotta know you’re gonna get these weird urges to protect him, 'cause he’s your kid and that's how parenting works… and sometimes you have to let kids make their own choices. Scout’s a damn smart kid, he made a good one… found himself a top-notch bloke who loves him just as much right back; and would, no, _has_ killed to keep him safe. They’re a good enough match…” Engie offers, resisting the urge to place a consoling hand on Spy’s arm.

“But why zhe BUSHMAN? And why am I zhe last to know?” Spy asks, looking rather perturbed still.

 

Engie scratches at his stubbly chin. “Well, ah can’t rightly say why they’ve waited so long to tell ya, maybe waiting for the right time I suppose. As for the _who_ … well, they get on like a house on fire, and you’d think it was a case of opposites attractin’ but they’re more similar than you’d think…”

“Per'aps you are ri-… _what do you mean 'waited zhis long’_ , is this not a new realtionship?” those piercing blue eyes narrowed in suspicion as Engie fumbled to think of an excuse.

 

Instead, he sighs and decides to be honest. “Far as I can tell, it’s been almost a year now… or thereabouts. Think it was this time last year I had them both come see me, separately mind, to use as a sounding board… liked each other but were too damn chicken to take the next step and actually admit it.  
Can face death a dozen times a day, but can’t tell another person they like 'em. Ironic, ain't it? On the plus side, it gave me a chance to talk Scout out of using those baseball pick-up lines he’s so damn fond of… Sniper might’ve found 'em funny, but they’re just _painful_ to hear…”

“You are telling me, mon amie. I do not know WHERE he gets zhat from, 'is mother is perfectly romantic when she wishes to be…” Spy admits, posture relaxing for the first time since he barged in.

“Oh?” Engie queries, sensing a chance to change the topic. “And how does the whole her bein’ Scout’s Ma work with you and, y'know, Demo…”

Spy’s mouth quirks up. “She is utterly fine with it, we had something as two people a long time ago… and now there are three people all together in zhis, it matters little. Although I know she misses us being around… and there are few opportunities for privacy on a base like zhis, much less for 'er to come and visit. In fact, speaking of privacy, where 'ave-…”

His eyes narrowed once more. “Zhe van. Zhey 'ave been shagging in zhat filthy van… I will need to get Scout tested for everything…”

 

Engie was torn between mild pride at the paternal pattern of thought, and downright amusement at the ridiculousness of it all. So he settled for allowing the burbling laugh trapped in his chest to break free…

Spy pulls up short at the sound, narrowing his eyes in accusation. “And what, _exactly_ , is so funny… labourer?”

“ _You_ , god dammnit, I mean… it’s nice ta see ya takin’ an interest but you’re worse than a first-time mother hen fussin’ over her chicks. Ain’t like either of 'em can get pregna-…” Engie pauses.

Spy’s eyes widen.

“You do not zhink zhe good Doctor has added anything… unusual to our internal organs, outside zhe normal array of animal items, do you?” he whispers in a low, urgent tone. Trying hard to dismiss the thought to himself.

“ _Lord ah hope not_ , but we might as well check in before someone gets an unexpected surprise…” Engie responds, chair clattering to the floor at the speed with which the man shot upright. 

 

Not to cast aspersions on the good Medic, but he had this funny little quirk for playing God with the Mercs, and they’d been caught up short a few times thanks to that.  
Like the day Demo woke up with gills… or the fact everyone had a Mega Baboon heart attached to an uber implant beating away in their chests… not to _mention_ the time Medic gave soldier poison sacs without explicitly mentioning it to the man… and the rocket-jumping military man kept accidentally envenoming a certain teammate, who then had to fess up to the team healer why he needed the antitoxin so frequently. That had been interesting, to say the least…

They’re both at the door and flinging it open before another word is spoken. The corridor seems absolutely endless to the pair in their urgency, despite how close-by the Medic's lair actually was to the laboratories; a design that specifically allowed for any explosion-based injuries to be dealt with swiftly.

 

“Apart from the surprise of it all… you coping with this well enough, now ya calmed down?” Engie queries, hurrying his steps to keep up with the lankier-limbed Spy.

There was a long pause, as the Infirmary door reared before them like an oncoming wave. No one usually came in here unless it was urgent, except Heavy, and that was a different story.

“… _oui_ , I suppose so, labourer.” Spy finally admits, swinging open the door with such gusto it nearly bounced closed on the intruders once more. “ ** _Doctor, we must 'ave words!_** ”

\- - -

Twenty minutes later, utterly reassured that, whilst Medic had given them many little enhancements… the ability to be mothers was not one of them.

Although he did confess to having his eye on a shipment of baboon uteruses, if they were interested? Engineer had smacked the Doctor, and told him to stop that nonsense right now. Where would they even _PUT_ a baby on this base?  What kind of nanny mercenary could look after it during battle…? You can't just come up with the idea of kids without thinking of the implications, man!

 

At which point Spy started to get a little concerned about the sanity of the team’s two (supposedly) soundest members…

He’d circumvented the entire conversation with a polite, “Non, thank you Doctor. Try it and I will kill you.”, before physically dragging Engie out of the room before anyone could start making blueprints.

 

“Well, zhat answers zhat rather disturbing question at zhe very least.” Spy sighs, tired after the unusual emotional rollercoaster of the day.

“You good, then?” Engie queries, as they head towards the main lounge area, because something smelled good in the kitchen and it was just about dinner time anyways.

“I believe so…” Spy responds, then grimaces as if the next words caused him physical pain. “And you 'ave been exceptionally patient, and 'elpful, despite my outbursts… zhank you, Engineer.”

 

“Mighty kind of you to say, son. Now let’s get some grub, you and that kid'a yours are too damn skinny… if ya turned sideways and stuck outcha tongue, you'd look like a zipper.” ribs the Engineer, changing the mood to something more positive as they turn into the common room.

Spy notices the way Scout and Sniper immediately spring apart, leaping for opposite ends of the couch on his arrival; as Heavy takes a conspicuous two steps towards it and pretends to yawn, blocking them from view a moment too late. An almost foolproof system of deception. Spy would consider feeling pride, had their lookouts been slightly more aware and warned the pair in time. He would need to mention a better method in future.

 

Scout is nervously peering at him over the back of the couch; Spy deliberately catches his eye… and smiles, with a slight, 'go ahead’ wave of his hand.

The runner was ghostly white, like he’d received a sudden shock, and might just fall off the couch any second. Sniper, catching the gesture, moved over to Scout again, and put his arm back around the lanky runner. Grounding the batter, and whispering something into his ear, possibly comforting phrases or odes to piss... for all Spy knew. 

They clearly needed a moment to process the unexpected 'permission’ of sorts. A general ' _I know, it’s okay_ ’ from the person they had clearly been dreading finding out about them, the most.

 

Engineer broke off to check on what was cooking. Pyro always made something exciting, but someone had to check they didn’t put enough spice in there to kill a small adult…  
They liked things hot, as one would imagine, but for some of the mercs - _who happened to have had little to no experience with food of that type_ \- it’d been quite a unique introduction. Of the _screaming and begging for respawn to make the burning STOP_ type, whilst Pyro laughed in the background, somewhat maniacally.

 

Spy found himself gravitating to stand by Demo, who was sitting at their battered all-purpose wooden table. It was for meals, plotting, game night, poker, planning out missions, an impromptu horizontal dart board, extra bed for those whose backs were revolting against them, and many other things far less innocent that no one else on base ever mentioned seeing if they ran across it. And god, a few of them had STORIES...

 

The Scot had a pile of scrap before him, clearly carefully constructing the oddly-shaped items into… something. Spy could make heads nor tails of it… but the mercenary clearly had some blueprint in his mind.  

Watching those large hands delicately piece together something intricate, delicate, and utterly puzzling to the observer with no visual cues as to the identity of the finished product… was hypnotic, soothing, and fascinating. Demo knew Spy loved to watch him work, and that’s probably why he was being so obvious about it.

Having accidentally dropped the bomb on Spy about Sniper & Scout. He was clearly doing the one thing that Demo knew for sure would calm Spy down, short of… well, _things that can’t be done in the occupied common room without at least some complaints being filed to Human Resources_.

 

“ _You know me so well…_ ” he mutters to Demo, sitting down in the seat beside the man. Subtly pressing his arm alongside that of Demo’s, and just watching…

 

He just about visibly startled out of the seat when a plate was placed on the table before him. Demo, too, jumped, having been lost in his invention.  
Engie laughed, and moved down the line, handing out plates full of… who knows, but it smelled amazing.

 

Scout and Sniper, down the table, had abandoned all pretence of not being together, and were sitting close. But, nothing else was amiss…

' _At least zhey’re not feeding each other spoonful by spoonful and giggling about it_ ,’ Spy thought to himself. They were just existing as they normally did, the same way Demo, Spy and all the others did.

He was glad, truly, that nothing had changed.

 

“Pass the salt, _Bilby_ …” Sniper mutters, and Spy’s ears prick up as Scout goes bright red.

“ _Bilby_ , is it?” he drawls, and some at the table tense.

Sniper doesn’t seem to mind as much as the flustered Scout does.  
“Yeah, _Bilby_ , 'cause they’re small, cute little buggers… and the technical term for 'em is a rabbit bandicoot… 'n when we got here I always called him 'Scoot’, so… rabbit bandi-scoot… bilby… just fits.”

“Oh my god, stop telling my dad these things, Snipes, _pleaaaaaaaaase_ …” Scout whines, _Definitely Not Making Eye Contact With Anyone_ after a statement like that.

 

“Why not, he’s probably got baby photos of you somewhere 'round here that’re way more embarrassing…” Sniper ribs, as Scout pouts, melodramatically.

Spy grins, “ _Oui_ , I do indeed, _mon petit lapin_.”

Scout groans, “This is why I didn’t wantcha to know just yet, cause I had a feeling you and Snipes would team up against me…”

“Aw mate, don’t be like that.” Sniper coaxes, not even the vaguest smidgeon of apology written on his features. “We’re just teasing…”

 

“You may be, bushman, but I 'ave documented evidence of a certain _lapin_ ’s first bubble bath, zhat I am sure everyone 'ere would _love_ to see…” Spy goads, good-naturedly.

Scout is looking at him in such stark horror written all over his features, it’s hard for the rest of the team not to burst out laughing. Spy is only remaining nonchalant through years of schooling his own expressions.

 

Demo is the one that takes pity first, and calms the situation down.  
He nudges Spy in the side, “Take it down a notch, darlin’, the lad’ll drop dead on ye if ye don’t.”

Now it’s the explosive expert's turn to have Spy's withering glare turned upon him, as Medic nearly inhales his fork in surprise. Scout has to rescue Sniper from the beer he was currently choking on.

 

Ideally, he hadn’t wanted the relationship to come out so… messily.  
He wrinkled his nose, since when had Demo ever called him ' _Darling_ ’?

Spy narrows his eyes and flicks open the balisong, dramatically. “Do you 'ave any last words, Tavish?”

 

Chairs scrape the floor as others start to leap out of their seats up to intercede… 

 

“ _Tell your wife, I love her!_ ” Demo cries dramatically, and then both of the men burst into laughter, to the confusion of the rest of the team.

“Tell 'er yourself, _mon amour_ , next time we are 'ome… I would not wish to explain your sudden death, or my role in it, to one as formidable as 'er.” Spy responds, tone familiar and warm.

 

“Wait…” Scout’s small voice pipes up, and his expression shows his mind is busy processing this. “I have two dads?”

Demo looks at Spy, who nods. “Oh aye, but I’m gonnae have tae draw the line at either you or Snipes there callin’ me ' _daddy_ ’, aye?”

 

Dinner was all but forgotten in the uproar of hilarity that followed.


	2. Literally a picture of a Bilby I drew Scout's Headset On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legit just a stupid joke I made a while back, for anyone who doesn't know what a Bilby looks like.
> 
> Behold, the Rabbit Bandi(s)coot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have forgotten non-Aussies may not know what a Bilby looks like.  
> This is a photo of one that I drew a vaguely Scoutish headset on, to give an example.

 

* * *

 

* * *

 

 Rabbit Bandi(s)coot

**Author's Note:**

> The explicit headcanon called for Sniper/Scout & Spy/Demo, but I couldn't help but make it Spy/Demo/Scout Ma... she must not be left out. 
> 
> BEHOLD MY TRASH


End file.
